


To All A Good Night

by idleside



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bets & Wagers, Bisexual Female Character, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Breast Fucking, Casual Sex, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dominance, F/F, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Kissing, Large Breasts, Large Cock, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Post-Hogwarts, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sloppy Makeouts, Thighs, Threesome - F/F/M, Unsafe Sex, double tit-fuck, porn dialogue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28310589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idleside/pseuds/idleside
Summary: As one of the few single people left over in the post-Hogwarts years, Harry wasn't really expecting too much out of the annual holiday party his friends held.To his surprise, he discovers that Susan and Lavender are eager to present their generous gifts to him. And each other. They intend to give him one of his best nights ever, in fact.When they discover that Harry has a gift which keeps on giving, well, both are happy to share this present with their other friends.After all, aren't gifts meant to be shared?
Relationships: Lavender Brown/Harry Potter, Padma Patil/Harry Potter, Susan Bones/Lavender Brown/Harry Potter, Tracey Davis/Harry Potter
Comments: 34
Kudos: 164





	1. Merry Titmas

Harry supposed that, all things considered, he was happy for all his various friends.

He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he’d missed some critical opportunity, when he looked at how it seemed like most of his social circle had settled down with each other: Ron and Hermione were going as strong as ever; Ginny had wound up dating Dean Thomas long-term; Seamus and Parvati were inseparable; Neville and Hannah had gotten _married_ ; the majority of the Gryffindor Quidditch squad was dating each other, and so on.

Hell, even _Draco Malfoy_ seemed to be content in his arranged marriage to Astoria Greengrass, which was very nearly as surprising as the fact that Harry would begrudgingly admit that his partner (as Aurors) counted as a genuine _friend_ at that point.

With his particularly unique relationship status in mind, Harry hadn’t exactly struggled at the holiday party he’d attended with all his various friends at the Leaky Cauldron, but he’d been increasingly conscious of the fact that his dates for the evening were the lovely ladies “firewhisky”, “more firewhisky”, and if he were feeling particularly daring, “another firewhisky”.

Perhaps it was due to this sort of reminiscence that Harry thought it was a good idea to join Lavender Brown in doing shots (herself one of the rare “leftovers” of their generation), which quickly led to Lavender excitedly deciding that he’d be her conversation partner for the night.

It wasn’t that Harry disliked her or anything like that, he was just hopelessly out of his depth when it came to the topics of “gossip”, fashion, or magical animal rights – the three topics which it seemed that Lavender’s entire life revolved around.

As much as she was an obviously attractive woman, neither could Harry really imagine dating her. _Funny, that,_ he thought, _it was easier for me to forgive Draco for being a Death Eater than it is for me to move past Lavender’s use of nicknames like “Won-Won”._

“…and then she broke up with Terry, from what I heard, but it might have been him who dumped her, you know, since she started dating Michael again right after, but they might be on the rocks because he’s been hanging around Morag, you remember her?” Lavender’s rapid-fire summary of Cho Chang’s recent love life was not of particular interest to Harry.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry nodded, hoping that would stave off any further explanations.

“But enough about her, you probably don’t want to talk about your ex-girlfriend!” Lavender cheerfully announced, though Harry _really_ doubted that Cho even counted as an ‘ex’, “what about you, Harry? Still the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding World?”

“Er,” Harry muttered, “was I?” He didn’t exactly pay attention to Witch Weekly’s rankings, but the twins had certainly made sure to mock him relentlessly over the first time he’d reached the number one spot.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Lavender giggled and batted at his arm, “why, with the impression you left at the Ministry Ball this year? Not even Blaise Zabini could dethrone you!”

 _Of course, Blaise has been dating Theo Nott for, oh, five years now?_ Harry knew, but he didn’t want to reveal one of his fellow Aurors’ secrets like that.

“In that case, I guess so?” Harry shrugged and sipped his firewhisky.

“Ooh, how mysterious!” Lavender bounced in her seat, and Harry had to admit that the sight was _definitely_ worth tolerating another round of gossip. Lavender had been known as one of the most beautiful women in their year at Hogwarts when they were teenagers, and easily retained that position in their twenties. She had long, blonde hair, expressive grey-blue eyes, and – to put it as bluntly as possible – incredible breasts.

Said features were on prominent display in her holiday dress, the neckline plunging far enough that Harry was reasonably certain that she must have been smuggling her wand in her cleavage, because her dress was _obviously_ far too tight to feature pockets.

“Uh, what was that?” Harry realized he hadn’t been paying enough attention to catch Lavender’s last question.

“Are there any lucky ladies who might be gracing our presence in the future?” if Lavender was offended by his lapse, she didn’t show it, “or any lucky gentlemen, no judgment! I’m a very modern witch, you know!”

“Ah, no,” Harry scratched the back of his head, “I’m not into blokes, that is. And there’s no ladies, lucky or otherwise, really.”

“Oh, no?” Lavender leaned in conspiratorially, “why’s that?”

“Not sure,” Harry shrugged again, “not much time for dating, I suppose, busy with work and all that.”

“Hmm,” Lavender sipped her drink (some fruity concoction with a ridiculous straw) before suddenly shouting, “oh! Susan! Come have a drink!”

Susan Bones was also no stranger to the demands of a career. She worked as a deputy to the Department Head of the DMLE, which meant that hers and Harry’s paths often crossed at their respective jobs. Harry always enjoyed her company – though he still couldn’t quite grasp how she was either bold and brash or shy and bashful with little in between – and had pondered asking her out for a drink at times, but he always wound up deciding that it would somehow be inappropriate to treat a sort-of-colleague like that.

_Still, though, can’t say I haven’t thought about it…_

Much like Lavender, Susan had also been renowned for her looks even back at Hogwarts, and said looks had only improved with maturity. Although Harry enjoyed her cheerful demeanour, he’d be lying if he claimed that the tight blouses she wore ( _then again, it’d be hard for her to find a top that wasn’t tight across **that** chest_) weren’t one of the highlights of his days at the office.

“What’re we having?” Susan said by way of introduction, and Lavender thought for a moment.

“Harry, love, go get us a round of Green Fairies, would you?”

Harry nodded, not even bothering to grumble at being directed in this way. He’d be happy to retrieve those drinks – magical beverages that were said to inspire feelings of whimsy – if it meant getting a reprieve from being the topic of gossip.

When he made his way back to the table, Lavender and Susan were seated side-by-side, the two women excitedly conversing about something.

“No, I couldn’t… do you think?” Susan ‘whispered’ just loudly enough that Harry could make it out, only to look up at him in surprise when he returned to his own seat with their drinks in hand. She blushed as he sat down, and Harry wondered if she’d perhaps had more to drink than he’d thought.

“What I’m saying is,” Lavender continued more loudly than before, “I can’t possibly see how you _and_ Harry are both too busy to date anyone! Surely the Ministry doesn’t work you that hard!”

“The fun never stops,” Harry joked sarcastically, “I dunno, it just hasn’t come up, really.”

“I know what you mean,” Susan agreed, “it’s hard to meet people when you work late, yeah? In fact, I’m pretty sure that Harry here is the bloke I see most often, these days.”

She muttered something after that sentence which kind of sounded like “not that I’m complaining”, but Harry didn’t quite catch it.

“That’s where I should come in!” Lavender cheerfully announced, “I can be your wing-woman! Harry, why don’t I introduce you to one of my friends some time? Susan, same for you!”

Harry thought that there were pretty decent odds that he already knew Lavender’s friends, the post-Hogwarts social circles were not _that_ wide. He made an effort to brush this suggestion aside, but Lavender was unstoppable.

“Harry, love, what’s your type?”

“How so?” He was confused, but this wasn’t unusual for him when he wound up in Lavender’s orbit.

“What kind of woman do you prefer?” Lavender leaned forward in interest, and Harry had to struggle very hard to keep his eyes from drifting downwards, “you know, ‘blonde, brunette, or redhead’? Tall or short? Tits or arse?”

Susan snorted beside her, and Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. While it was true that his dating life had been nothing much to speak of in the recent past, it wasn’t as if his _entire_ single life had been a solitary one; he’d certainly dated around after graduating Auror’s Academy, and he’d had a few casual flings (which usually tended to peter out when the woman he was involved with wound up dating a guy seriously).

In those experiences, Harry hadn’t really noticed any particular trends in any of the categories that Lavender was so curious about: Romilda Vane ( _that was a mistake, but the sex was bloody great,_ he recalled) was short, brunette, and had a great arse; while Morag MacDougal was tall, red-headed, and had killer legs (but not much in common with Harry outside of their time in the bedroom); and Veronique Dubois (a short-lived fling when he visited Bill and Fleur in France) had been blonde, around average height, but _quite_ busty.

“Uh,” Harry muttered a reply, “I’m not sure?”

“C’mon, don’t be shy,” Lavender prodded him, “surely there’s something that gets you going!”

“I mean, it depends?” Harry shrugged, “I’m a fan of pretty much all of those types, I guess.”

“Well, that’s too easy!” Lavender giggled, “what about you, Susan?”

“Oh, pretty ordinary, I think,” Susan answered, “the classic tall, dark and handsome type, I suppose!”

 _Well, that takes me out of the running,_ Harry couldn’t help but sardonically mock himself, _I’m not_ that _tall, and I wouldn’t call myself handsome, but I’ve got the dark hair, I guess._

“What about you, Lav?” Susan continued, “you’re being awfully nosy, so fair’s fair, do you have anyone on the go right now?”

“Why, Susan,” Lavender pretended to be affronted, “you should know a lady never kisses and tells!”

She paused to flag down a passing server, ordering another round of shots.

“Luckily for you two, I’m no lady!” she giggled again, “but, sadly, I’ve also found myself awfully lonely of late, isn’t that tragic?”

“I’m surprised!” Susan replied, “you’re so outgoing, and so pretty! I thought for sure that you’d have some lucky bloke by now!”

“Who’s to say they’d be a bloke?” Lavender smirked, and Susan blushed in response.

“So, what’s your type, then?” Harry decided to join in on this teasing now that he wasn’t the target.

“I thought you’d never ask, Harry,” Lavender winked at him, “but I _do_ have to maintain my own mystique, don’t I?”

By the time their next round of drinks arrived, Harry noticed that the Leaky Cauldron had mostly emptied, and vaguely recalled that he’d bid most of his friends goodnight already.

_Huh, guess I wound up more distracted than I realized._

“Well, I know what you two need!” Lavender announced, “you need to cut loose and have some fun! And it just so happens that I know that neither of you have to go to work for the next few days!”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “that’s true.”

“We’re going out!” Lavender decided, rising from the table in a flash, “everyone else has gone home already, anyways, and I know a club that’ll still be open!”

Harry opened his mouth, starting to protest, before shutting it just as quickly. It _had_ been a while since he’d actually had a fun night out, and even if going to a club wasn’t exactly his first choice, he couldn’t really find any solid reason to argue against it.

“Sure,” he answered, “I’m game.”

“Me too!” Susan smiled widely.

* * *

It turned out that the club Lavender had in mind – a place called “The Griffon's Roost”, appropriately – had not, in fact, been open.

“Fuck!” Lavender cursed, “I forgot it was on holiday hours!”

While the evening wasn’t a frigid one, there was enough snow in the air and frost on Harry’s breath that he decided he didn’t really feel like wandering around outside until Lavender decided on an alternative destination.

“I’ve got a pretty good bar stocked at my place,” Harry shrugged, “if either of you wanted another drink or two.”

“Ooh!” Lavender bounced on her heels in excitement, “that sounds delightful!”

“That’s very kind of you, Harry!” Susan agreed, “lead the way!”

His flat wasn’t exactly the most opulent residence – then again, after living at 12 Grimmauld Place with Sirius after he graduated Hogwarts, most places would pale in comparison – but it somehow seemed to impress Lavender and Susan all the same.

“Not bad, Harry!” Lavender assessed, “you could use a bit more decoration, but the whole ‘dark and serious’ thing suits you!”

_Does it?_

“Heh, thanks,” Harry muttered, “anyways, lounge is through here,” he guided his guests into his flat, thankful that he’d already cleaned up earlier in the day, “what would you two fancy for a drink?”

“I’d love a Manhattan, if you don’t mind!” Susan answered, cheerfully flopping down onto his couch.

“A Dark and Stormy would be perfect, if you’ve got the ingredients!” Lavender added, joining Susan on the couch.

“Coming right up,” Harry jokingly mimed tipping his hat in response, prompting another characteristic giggle from Lavender.

While Harry was in the kitchen mixing the drinks that the ladies requested (as well as a Negroni for himself), he heard Lavender’s giggles continue, often joined by Susan’s own laughter. He hadn’t realized that the two women were close with each other, but Harry supposed it made sense: both were definitely outgoing, bubbly sorts.

 _To say nothing of some of their other similarities…_ his mind couldn’t help but add.

He returned to the lounge and gave each of the women their beverages, then flopped into a chair from across the couch.

“Is that a record player?” Susan asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry stood back up, wandering over to the device in question (a clever bit of charms work from Ron allowing it to work in his magical residence), “I’m not exactly a connoisseur or anything, but I’ve been finding I prefer Muggle music lately.”

“Put something on!” Lavender cheered, “I’ve never heard Muggle music!”

“Mind if I have a look?” Susan asked, popping up from her seat and wandering over to peruse his records, “ooh, you’ve got Queen!”

Harry obligingly set the record to playing, and before long, both women were on their feet, excitedly dancing in the middle of his lounge. When they weren’t in a dimly-lit pub, Harry could see that Susan was definitely _not_ dressed in her usual conservative style: the fishnets that she wore were enough to throw that image aside on their own, to say nothing of the shiny black skirt which rose much higher than he’d first noticed, or the way her blouse was unbuttoned far enough to reveal a dangerous amount of cleavage.

Lavender, of course, never dressed conservatively. Her red dress highlighted every inch of her soft hourglass figure, and the seasonally green stockings she’d paired it with also served to show off her long legs. If Susan’s cleavage was “dangerous”, then Lavender’s was “absolutely lethal”.

Harry felt as if the temperature in the room was rising all of a sudden, and unbuttoned the top couple buttons of his own shirt to try and alleviate the flush he felt at the back of his neck.

“Aren’t you going to join us, Harry?” Susan asked him.

“I’m, uh, not much of a dancer,” Harry admitted.

“Come on, it’s just for fun,” Lavender argued, reaching out to pull him off his seat and into the middle of their impromptu dance party.

When the song _“Fat Bottomed Girls”_ came on, both Lavender and Susan broke down into giggles once again, and Harry counted his blessings that they seemed to decide at the same time that the time for dancing was over. As both flopped back onto the couch, Harry fidgeted with his shirt.

“I’ll be back in a few,” he decided, “just going to nip out for a smoke, yeah?”

“Cheers!” Lavender replied, and Harry darted out of the room as smoothly as possible.

He knew it was a bad habit, but – thanks to the fact he was a Wizard – it wasn’t as if this particular vice of his carried any actual health risks for him. He consciously used it as a way to look more “dangerous” than he would otherwise, which came with benefits in his Auror career.

At this moment, it gave him an opportunity to cool his head: being trapped between Susan and Lavender while they danced with him had started to inspire some particularly heated thoughts, but even _if_ Harry was feeling bold enough to make a move, he wouldn’t dare risk offending one of the women by leaving them out, so it was a moot point anyways.

When he returned inside, he caught the tail end of another conversation.

“…I’ve never had one before,” Susan said.

“It’ll be fun!” Lavender answered, “follow my lead, yeah?”

“What’ll be fun?” Harry asked as he reappeared, prompting both women to yelp in surprise.

“We decided,” Lavender answered, “that you needed some help decorating.”

“Oh?” Harry was confused.

“Yeah,” Susan agreed, “’tis the season and all, right?”

“Look!” Lavender pointed above his head, “mistletoe!”

Sure enough, they’d conjured and placed a bough of mistletoe in the entryway, which Harry had somehow failed to notice until that moment.

“You know what that means!” Lavender teased, as she walked towards him, “after all, it’s my turn to fix us some drinks!”

As she passed by him under the entryway, she leaned in to peck him on the lips, a quick gesture that ended as soon as it began, but left Harry thrown for a loop anyways.

“I’ll help!” Susan cheerfully proclaimed, and when she walked by, she, too, pecked him on the lips.

_What._

Harry couldn’t figure out what they meant by this; Susan wasn’t the type to pull pranks of this nature (Lavender, granted, absolutely was), and they’d… _both_ kissed him?

_It’s got to just be a silly little holiday tradition, right?_

He paced back and forth quickly, as if he could somehow compress all his confusion into the steps he took.

Harry had managed to (relatively) calm himself by the time Susan and Lavender returned to his lounge, Lavender carrying two shot glasses instead of proper drinks, Susan carrying a third.

“Bottoms up!” Lavender announced, and Harry automatically walked to join the two women in that ritual.

The taste of something vaguely magical lingered on his tongue, but Harry was painfully aware that – while he definitely had a pleasant buzz – he wasn’t anywhere near drunk enough to excuse the wild ideas running through his mind.

“Speaking of which,” Susan spoke, “that last song we listened to, is _that_ your type, Harry?”

_Um._

“Fat bottomed girls make the rockin’ world go round, yeah?” Lavender tittered, “but we’ve been trying to figure it out, and we can’t make heads or tails of you, you know.”

“How so?” Harry puzzled.

“Well, for example,” Lavender stepped behind Susan, and reached around her to cup her breasts, pushing them up and forwards in a way that could _not_ be ignored, “Susan has spectacular tits, and you haven’t been paying attention to them at all…”

_Merlin._

“I, uh,” Harry stammered.

“Oh, mistletoe!” Susan giggled, and leaned back to kiss Lavender. While it wasn’t exactly a deep kiss, it was certainly more than the peck that she’d given him. 

Harry felt the immediate impulse to excuse himself and give the two women some privacy, but couldn’t figure out exactly how he’d pull that off inside his own flat.

“So?” Lavender continued, and she jiggled Susan’s breasts for emphasis, “are you a tit man, Harry?”

“You’re both gorgeous,” Harry admitted, “but, um…”

“Harry,” Susan reached out to grab his shirt, pulling him against her, “you can’t possibly be this dense.”

He started to argue that he could, in fact, be that dense, but she silenced him by pressing her lips against his again.

“Uh?” Harry murmured when she released him.

“It’s okay,” Lavender interjected, “we’re all friends here, let’s have some fun together, it’s not a big deal.”

“Fun?” Harry almost yelped.

“Your lounge is very nice,” Susan spoke that time, “but I think you should show us your bedroom.”

_Fucking hell._

* * *

If their intentions weren’t already plainly obvious from that display, the last bits of Harry’s doubts were erased by the way that _both_ Lavender and Susan immediately began to overwhelm him as soon as the three stepped into his bedroom, each of the women kissing him in turn, guiding him down onto his bed as they did so.

Each of the two straddled one of his legs, laying on top of him so that Harry was imprisoned in an absolutely incredible way. He barely had a chance to catch his breath (let alone formulate a coherent thought) with how the two women turned his face back and forth, snogging him thoroughly in turn.

“Like I said, you both need to have some fun,” Lavender breathed at one point, “so I figured why not?”

Harry decided that all his various reasons for arguing against what was happening were meaningless, and shamelessly reached down to grab a firm handful of each of the two women’s arses. Despite their insistence that he had to choose between “tits or arse”, Harry found that neither was lacking in the latter category at all.

“We’re all overdressed,” Susan added, disengaging from kissing him briefly, “we should fix that.”

Harry couldn’t help but suck in an awed breath as the two women, acting on Susan’s statement, immediately began to divest themselves of their clothing. Susan wore a bright red, lacy bra which seemed entirely insufficient to restrain her breasts, while Lavender wore an (appropriately) purple garment which similarly struggled to contain her chest.

“Fuck,” Harry swore, “is this…?”

“Lucky you,” Lavender laughed, “yes, this is happening, Harry.”

As smoothly as he was capable of, Harry quickly unbuttoned his own shirt, tossing it aside carelessly as he started to undo his trousers. Susan and Lavender were much more efficient in their own undressing, each of the two women naked but for their underwear in a heartbeat. While he'd definitely enjoyed looking at their stockings, Harry found the expanses of bare skin they'd both exposed much more intriguing. 

The sight when they both removed their bras at the same time, allowing their plentiful breasts to swing free, was one that Harry hoped he would never forget. Both of the women were absolutely _stacked,_ and the image of Susan’s dark pink nipples was equally as amazing as Lavender’s faint, nearly invisible counterparts.

When they both leaned in to start kissing him again, Harry honestly couldn’t keep track of which witch he was making out with at any given time, and found that he absolutely didn’t care about these kinds of details.

He grunted in pleasurable surprise when one hand, then two, fell between his legs, fondling his cock over his underwear.

“Merlin,” Lavender gasped, “I’ve gotta see this for myself.”

Harry began to kiss Susan more intently, their tongues dueling against each other as she kissed him back hard, while Lavender crept down the bed, peeling his underwear downwards. Harry sucked in a breath when he felt Lavender’s mouth against his cock, pressing wet kisses all along his rapidly-hardening length.

“Fuck,” the blonde murmured, “it’s a good thing you've got both of us tonight, this is way too much cock for one woman to handle. Susan, get down here!”

“Mmm,” her redheaded partner in crime made a satisfied noise, before she, too, shuffled down the bed.

The next image which Harry swore to commit to his memory was of these two gorgeous women pressing a kiss against either side of his cock, before Lavender slid upwards to pull his head between her lips.

“Holy fuck,” Harry hissed, “that’s incredible.”

Instead of responding to his comment with words, Susan chose to slide her hand up between his legs, cupping his balls gently as she pressed her tongue flat against the base of his cock, licking side-to-side. Lavender, meanwhile, had started to bob her head rapidly along the first few inches of his cock, making eager, sloppy sounds with every motion.

“You’re so big,” Susan muttered, before Lavender released him from her mouth, and Susan immediately stepped forward to replace her. Where Lavender had been fast, wet, and _enthusiastic,_ Susan was slow and sensual, running her tongue in circles around the head of his cock before she began to slide downwards.

Lavender was not idle in this time either, leaning down to suck one of his balls into her mouth, releasing it with a _pop_ before giving the other one the same treatment.

“You’re hard enough,” Lavender planted another kiss against his balls, “I need to get fucked, right now.”

Harry was all too eager to obey, kicking his underwear free of his ankle as he shuffled onto his knees, while Lavender rearranged herself into a doggy-style position, her arse thrust up into the air in front of him.

 _Definitely not making my “preference” an easy choice,_ Harry thought, as he grabbed a solid handful of her arse in each of his hands. Lavender’s figure was definitely on the hourglass side, which extended to her wide hips, and in turn, her big, jiggly arse.

“I’m on the potion,” Lavender exclaimed, “I’m a _responsible_ slut, after all. Fuck me, please, Harry!”

Her brand of dirty talk might not have been the most original, but it was exactly what he needed to hear in that moment. Without hesitation, Harry pushed his hips forward, sliding his cock inside the busty blonde.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Susan muttered her approval, kneeling to Lavender’s side.

“C’mere,” Lavender gasped, as Harry began to slowly drag his cock in and out of her, “I’ll take care of you, Sue.”

“Oh, I’ve never…” Susan looked as if she were trying to weigh her options, “I’ve never actually _been_ with a woman, yeah? Snogging and fooling around is one thing, but…”

“Fuck!” Lavender cried out as Harry thrust forward hard, hilting his entire length in her, “don’t worry about it, just get in front of me!”

Susan bit her bottom lip, and crawled forward to do just that. She met Harry’s eyes as she clambered towards the head of his bead and winked at him, before rolling onto her back in front of Lavender and spreading her legs wide.

“Fuck, I’m game,” Susan murmured, before she reached up to run her fingers into Lavender’s blonde hair, and pulled the other woman’s face down into her pussy.

“Mmmph!” Lavender made her approval obvious, despite how muffled her voice was between Susan’s legs.

This was the _third_ sight that Harry tried his best to remember. Susan met his eyes with a fiery look of desire before she started to buck her hips up against Lavender’s mouth, and Harry did his best to match her intensity, pounding into Lavender hard enough that every thrust made her juicy arse jiggle against him.

“Mhmm!” Lavender moaned, and Susan gasped in pleasure when she did so.

Lavender felt _incredible_ around him, her pussy positively drenched with arousal, to the point that every one of Harry’s strokes produced a positively pornographic wet sound. Ignoring his own surprise at the unexpected turn the night had taken, Harry threw his all into his efforts to fuck her as hard as she’d demanded, pawing and groping her arse the entire time.

“MMMM” Lavender did her best to scream, but Susan’s tight grip in her hair kept her voice _somewhat_ quiet, as her cunt clenched and spasmed around Harry’s length.

“Holy fuck,” Lavender muttered as her orgasm abated, “Merlin, Harry, you’re fuckin’ incredible.”

She tilted her hips to the side, causing his cock to pop free of her, leaving Harry kneeling with his manhood practically throbbing in the air.

“You’re not done yet,” Lavender teased, and swatted at his arse playfully, “go give Susan that big, thick cock of yours.”

“Fuck yes,” Susan breathed, spreading her legs even wider in front of him, “please, Harry, I need it.”

Without even considering any words in response, Harry crawled forward, lining himself up with Susan’s entrance, before plunging forward harshly, thrusting his entire length inside of her in one go.

“Oh, god!” Susan cried, “fuck, you’re so good. I’m safe too, Harry, just fuck me as hard as you can, don’t worry about a thing.”

“Fuck yeah,” Harry grunted his approval, starting to piston his hips against her hard. Her breasts jiggled under his efforts, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to reach forward to squeeze her tits hard, each easily big enough to fill his hand with _plenty_ to spare.

“She’s been waiting for you,” Lavender murmured into his ear, as she pressed her own incredible breasts against Harry’s back, “you’ve been holding out on us, Harry. We should have been riding that cock so long before now.”

“God…” Harry groaned, before he craned his head back, kissing Lavender sloppily even as he continued to do his best to pound Susan into his mattress. When he gripped underneath Susan's hips tightly, Harry could tell that - while her figure wasn't quite as "hourglass" as Lavender's - her arse was firm and bubbly, and he thoroughly enjoyed sinking his fingers into her cheeks for leverage. 

“Lav!” Susan cried out, “come here!”

“Yeah?”

“Sit on my face,” the redhead begged, “fair’s fair, right?”

“I won’t argue with that,” the blonde giggled in response, crawling on her hands and knees to the head of Harry’s bed, before swinging her legs over Susan’s head.

“Fuck!” Lavender groaned, “you’re sure this is your first time eating pussy? _Merlin._ ”

Harry was absolutely astounded by the eagerness with which Susan threw herself into this new experience, he could see her tongue darting between Lavender’s legs in rapid, almost _hungry_ motions. As entrancing as the sight was, he couldn’t complain when Lavender blocked his vision and leaned forward to kiss him again, her own tongue pushing into his mouth with urgency.

“Mmm,” Harry groaned, as he removed one of his hands from Susan’s tits to grope Lavender’s as well.

When he’d been fucking Lavender, he’d been amazed at how wet and slick she was, but Susan was equally incredible in a different way; her pussy was tight around his cock, so much so that he could swear that he felt every fold around him.

 ** _Really_** _can’t choose which is better,_ he hazily thought, _they’re both… wow._

Lavender broke her kiss with him, leaning back and panting for breath, before she smirked, and darted her hand between Susan’s legs.

“You’re both so fucking gorgeous,” Harry slurred, and Lavender only grinned more widely as she started to play with Susan’s clit.

Where Lavender was a screamer, it seemed that Susan’s orgasms were more evident _physically_ : her legs spasmed against Harry’s sides, and her cunt clenched so tightly that Harry’s cock popped out of her with a lewd, wet sound, as Susan’s cum sprayed against his abdomen.

“Holy fuck,” Lavender murmured, “she’s a squirter. That’s so fucking hot!”

“Only when it’s really good,” Susan whined, as Lavender dismounted her face, “which that was. Fuck.”

“You’re so pretty,” Lavender said, leaning down to kiss Susan, who made a weak mewling sound in response.

“We still need to-“ Susan’s breath hitched when Harry flicked a thumb over her nipple, “we need to make Harry cum.”

“Ooh, that’s right,” Lavender turned to him with a look that sent an entirely new thrill through him, “let’s give him something special, yeah?”

“What do you have in mind?” Harry smirked back at her, admittedly feeling confident at his own performance.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” Lavender instructed, “Sue, love, come here with me.”

The final image of the evening which Harry would **never** forget was when the two busty women knelt between his legs, and Lavender lifted her breasts up to envelop his cock.

“You too, babe,” she teased, and Susan joined her on the other side, completely smothering Harry’s manhood between their plentiful tits.

“Holy shit,” Harry gasped, “that’s amazing.”

When they started to rub their breasts up and down his length in unison, Harry realized that “amazing” was significantly underselling the experience. The tight embrace around his cock was pleasurable enough in its own right, but the sight of these two busty women working together in this manner was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Maybe he’s a tit man after all,” Lavender teased.

“You have amazing tits,” Susan confirmed, and both women shuddered when their nipples rubbed against each other.

“So do you, love,” Lavender complimented Susan in turn, before leaning forward to snog the redhead aggressively.

 _Fuck, this is so much,_ Harry thought.

He craned his neck down to press his mouth against both of theirs at once, and the three of them continued to kiss messily, the trails of drool falling from their tongues falling into Susan and Lavender’s combined cleavage, turning the tit-wank they were performing on Harry into a well-lubricated tit- **fuck**.

“Oh, fuck!” Harry groaned, leaning away from the three-way kiss, as he felt his orgasm beginning to pulse through his cock, “keep going!”

The two women moaned into each others’ mouths, as they continued to make out with each other even as they increased the pace at which they heaved their tits up and down, and Harry couldn’t resist any longer.

He came with a loud moan, and ropes of his cum shot up from between their breasts to splatter against both women’s chins, which in turn was met with another enthusiastic noise of approval from both of them.

“Fucking… _incredible,_ ” Harry muttered, watching Susan and Lavender kiss and lick at each other until their faces were clean.

“So were you,” Susan gasped, before she crawled up into the bed beside him.

“Were?” Lavender asked, as she hand reached down to fondle Harry’s cock, which had begun to deflate, but now started to grow to hardness once more, “you can keep going, can’t you, Harry?”

“Fuck yes,” Harry eagerly confirmed.

“Merlin,” Lavender made an impressed noise, “I swear, I’m actually going to introduce you to my friends. It’s a fucking crime to keep a cock like this exclusive to anyone.”

“Gifts are meant to be shared,” Susan giggled, before her hand joined Lavender’s once again, easily bringing Harry back to his full erection.

“Well, I’m feeling generous,” Harry grinned, as he realized that this incredible night was just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays to all, but especially to these three!
> 
> I wanted to write something simple, easy, and straightforward, and this is the result :P
> 
> This is definitely on the purely porny end of the spectrum, which, really, only made sense to me once Lavender became involved in the vague ideas I had started kicking around for a true smutfic.
> 
> While this stands as a pretty complete one-shot of its own, if it turns out that people are interested in seeing more out of this somewhat one-track-minded setting, there's definitely room for further chapters!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	2. Happy New Rear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavender comes to Harry needing his help to win a bet she's made with one of her friends.
> 
> Harry is all too happy to fulfill allll the requirements of that wager.

Not long after Harry had returned from a post-Christmas visit with Ron and Hermione, whatever remaining plans he had for his evening were interrupted by a whooshing sound from his living room. His nerves sparked and his hand flew to his wand, but his surge of panic was immediately by the familiar voice that called out.

“Haaaarry!” Lavender announced herself, “are you home?”

“Hey, Lavender,” Harry greeted her as he walked into the room, “what’s up? Is something wrong?”

He’d given her and Susan each a simple Portkey which would bring them into his flat; while Harry knew that he was leaning a bit too far into the “paranoid” side of sensible precaution, he still couldn’t shake the worry that any woman he became involved with might find herself a target of his remaining enemies ( _not that there’s been any sign of lingering Death Eaters in years, but still,_ he thought), so he wanted to ensure that they had a safe haven if they needed one.

“Oh, not at all,” Lavender said cheerily, “I just needed to talk to you!”

“Those Portkeys were supposed to be for emergencies,” Harry shook his head in amused exasperation.

“This _is_ an emergency!” Lavender expressed, “I need you to help me win a bet!”

“A bet?” Harry was confused.

“Yup!” Lavender ‘popped’ the word, “you see, I was just out for drinks with a good friend of mine, and we got to talking about our love lives, you know how it is, and she got to complaining about how she’s been terribly unfulfilled!”

“I thought we were, uh,” Harry wasn’t sure if her explanation actually made anything clearer, “keeping things on the down-low, yeah?”

It wasn’t as if Lavender and himself were dating (or him and Sue, for that matter), which she’d made obvious enough by stating “don’t worry, I’m not trying to become your girlfriend or anything”, but Harry still preferred to keep his own love life a private matter.

 _I’ve finally managed to get Witch Weekly off my back with all their “Has the Man-Who-Won found true love???” articles,_ Harry thought, _even if this wouldn’t exactly be scandalous, I’d still rather keep it under wraps._

“Oh, don’t worry, she’s not much for gossip,” Lavender giggled, “and besides, she doesn’t know that it’s you I suggested!”

“Suggested?” Harry was caught up in the whirl of energy that was Lavender Brown, “er, how’s that?”

“That’s the bet I need you to win for me!” Lavender exclaimed, “please, Harry? It’d mean a lot to me!”

“Um,” Harry found he was _almost_ starting to get used to this kind of energy, “maybe start from the top, because I’m not exactly clear what it is that I might be agreeing to?”

“Oh, right!” Lavender bounced over to his couch, flopping down on it as if she were already at home, “c’mere, have a seat!”

Bemused, Harry followed her directions, sitting beside Lavender as she started to fish around in her purse.

“So, like I was saying,” she continued, “I was out for drinks with my friend, and she got to complaining about her love life, I guess it’s been hard for her to find someone who can live up to the expectations that she has? So, I told her that it wouldn’t be that difficult to find a man who could satisfy the fantasy she wants to act out, she told me that it couldn’t be that easy, I said it actually is, we started arguing about it, and yup! We made a bet about it!”

“Let me get this straight,” Harry blinked at Lavender’s rapid-fire explanation, “you want me to… shag one of your friends to win a bet for you?”

“Yup!” once again, the word practically bubbled from her lips.

“Uh,” Harry was stunned, “that’s, um… _what?_ ”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Lavender giggled, “I’ve got first-hand experience that you’ve got what it takes, after all!”

“No, not that,” Harry muttered, “I guess I just wasn’t expecting that you _actually_ wanted me to sleep with other women?”

“Oh, yeah, I’d never lie about things like that,” Lavender nodded, “now that I’ve discovered what a good lay you are, it’d be a right shame if one of my friends was _desperate_ for a great fuck and I didn’t share the wealth, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re making it sound like you’re my pimp or something,” Harry chuckled, as even he could admit that this was far from the worst problem to have.

Lavender laughed, before bumping her shoulder against his playfully.

“Don’t be silly, Harry,” she tittered, “I mean, yeah, there’s something in this for me too, but it’s not like I’m getting paid or anything!”

“Right, yeah, the bet,” Harry recalled, “what’s that about?”

“Well, you see,” Lavender glanced away as if she was slightly bashful, “it started out as the loser would owe the winner a favour, but, well… I got a bit carried away, and when I offered double-or-nothing when I bet that I could find a suitable man by tomorrow, the bet got a bit more dramatic…”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! Now, it turns out, the loser has to spend a whole weekend doing whatever the winner wants!”

“That’s, uh,” Harry felt as if this went a bit beyond Lavender’s oddly endearing second-hand pride in his talents, “that sounds like a lot?”

“It is!” Lavender smirked proudly, “and that’s why I _really_ want to win this bet, Harry! When I win, I’ll finaaaaally get the chance to fuck her!”

“Uh?” Harry wasn’t expecting _that_ answer. It wasn’t as if he forgot that Lavender was enthusiastically bisexual (his memories of what he’d witnessed between Lavender and Susan were extremely pleasant reminders of that fact), but this whole scenario was starting to sound a bit more complex than he’d anticipated.

“Can you blame me?” Lavender’s smirk grew into a full-blown smug grin, “just look at her!”

Lavender pulled a set of photographs ( _similar to Muggle Polaroids,_ Harry thought) from her purse, spreading them out on the table in front of them. All of the pictures were in black-and-white, and none featured the mysterious woman’s face, but it was certainly clear that Lavender had _great_ taste in women.

The mystery witch was displayed in various levels of undress, some of the photos showing only a tantalizing glimpse of her silhouette, others displaying her in near-nudity (one particular image of her clearly topless and clutching her own breasts to produce an impressive amount of cleavage was particularly enticing), and the last picture – which had the woman posed bent over a bed, her lingerie-clad arse thrust into the air – was difficult to look away from.

 _Something’s familiar about her…_ Harry puzzled. While it was difficult to tell for certain (as the images weren’t in colour), he thought that the woman’s exposed skin in several of the shots looked to be of a darker complexion, and the half-braided hairstyle she wore in the pictures which showed her from behind ( _a very impressive behind, at that_ ) piqued something in his memory.

Harry couldn’t help but try to solve this little riddle.

“Wait,” Harry muttered when realization struck him, “that’s Padma Patil.”

“I know, I know,” Lavender giggled, blushing intensely, “I’m awful, wanting to shag my best friend’s sister and all. I can’t help it, she’s just… well, you can see how hot she is for yourself, can’t you?”

If Harry had already thought this scenario sounded complicated, it had become much more so now.

“Ah,” he protested, “I didn’t realize that the two of you were, er…”

“We _aren’t_ , and that’s the problem I want to fix!” Lavender whined, “so come on, Harry, help me out, please? You’ll definitely get to have your fun too, you know.”

“Did, um,” Harry was a bit unsettled about one of the subtler details of ‘twins’ he’d never pondered before, “you and Parvati ever…?”

“Oh, Merlin, no!” Lavender squeaked, “I love Parv and all, but definitely not like that! No, no, that’s not what this is about. Ugh, I must sound awful. I know I’m thinking with my pussy and all, but I can’t pass this chance up! I’ve had a crush on Pads for _yeaaars_.”

“Really?” Harry had never picked up on this, not that he figured he’d be the most likely to.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Lavender blushed even harder, “when she first started teasing me for being a ‘silly girl’ back in sixth year? _Whew_. That did some things to me, I tell you.”

“So, this bet means you’re going to, uh, take advantage of the opportunity?” Harry felt like he was missing something.

“Oh, absolutely!” Lavender cheerily agreed, “but not, like, ‘take advantage’ take advantage, you know?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Haaarry, you’re still being silly,” Lavender giggled, “a woman doesn’t take pictures like this for someone if they aren’t going to fuck them _eventually_. I’m just going to make her actually follow through on her teasing for once, it’s nothing bad! The only reason I really don’t want to lose this bet is that I _know_ that Padma wouldn’t use the opportunity to control me for a weekend for any kinky fun things, she’d wind up making me do inventory for her or something awful like that.”

He had to admit that the whole dynamic was starting to make a bit more sense, and felt reassured that he wasn’t potentially blundering his way into something that could cause a friendship-ruining level of fallout.

“Wait, so how do I come in?” Harry had almost forgotten that he was supposed to be a key player in this whole scenario.

“Right! That’s the thing,” Lavender explained, “Pads is more into men than she is interested in women, overall, but she’s never been with a bloke who’s managed to satisfy her the way that she wants.”

“Is that so?” Harry felt a bit of heat rising up at the back of his neck as the conversation turned to more intimate topics.

“Absolutely,” Lavender answered, “you see, she wants a man to absolutely dominate her, to shag her completely senseless, so that she can’t even use that brilliant brain of hers when he’s finished. Make a right mess out of her, yeah? _That’s_ where you come in!”

“Huh,” Harry had to admit that this idea was becoming more and more appealing to him, “I’d never noticed that Padma was interested in me like that.”

“Oh, now you’re being ridiculous,” Lavender smacked his arm gently, laughing the whole time, “pretty much everyone who likes boys has been interested in you at some point or another. Well, not Hermione, I suppose.”

Harry chuckled, unsure of how to handle this sort of compliment.

“Which reminds me, though,” Lavender tapped a finger against her chin in thought, “part of the fantasy scenario that we’ve made this bet around is that she wants to be _used_ , so she doesn’t actually have to know that it’s you, as it turns out.”

“How does that work?” Harry was uncertain, but not uninterested.

“Well, a blindfold,” Lavender snickered, “but otherwise, don’t worry about her not being interested or anything like that. I wrote out a list of names, and she crossed out every boy that she _wouldn’t_ be willing to sleep with, and yours was one of three left over!”

“Really?” that surprised him.

“Yup!” Lavender smiled brightly at him, “but Michael Corner is back with Cho Chang after all, and unless you’d rather try to convince Blaise Zabini to give women a shot, you’re my last hope!”

“I, uh,” Harry couldn’t really find a reason not to agree to what Lavender proposed, but at the same time, this was all new to him.

“Think about it, Haaaaarry,” Lavender somehow managed to fit three syllables into his name, “she’s got a spectacular arse, doesn’t she? Wouldn’t you like to get your hands on that?”

When he glanced back at the one photo which showed this asset off most clearly, Harry couldn’t help but agree. Lavender started to run her fingers over the front of his chest, and he noticed she was breathing heavily.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Lavender murmured, before she reached to her purse again, drew her wand, and muttered ‘ _Vividify’_ while waving it over the photos of Padma. When she did so, the pictures became animated, and though all remained well short of “pornographic”, the ways that Padma clearly turned and bent to emphasize the curves of her body were even better than they had been as static images.

“Fuck, just look at her,” Lavender breathed, and her hand dipped lower to brush over Harry’s groin, “I want to bury my face in her arse.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Harry agreed, and Lavender sidled off the couch, kneeling between his legs.

“You never do make it clear,” Lavender joked, “whether you’re more about tits or arse.”

“Both are pretty fucking fantastic,” Harry argued, his gaze flicking between Lavender and the pictures laid out on his table.

“I think you need a bit more encouragement,” she teased, “but I want you to save the rest of your energy for tomorrow, yeah?”

Lavender popped the button of his trousers open and slid the zipper of his fly down before Harry even realized what she had in mind, but he knew much better than to argue.

“I know that she’s not going to have any hope of winning our bet,” Lavender spoke huskily, “once she’s got _this_ inside of her.”

Harry groaned as Lavender began to plant kisses against his rapidly-hardening cock, pressing her lips against his underwear teasingly. While he’d certainly noticed her features before, Harry was coming to find an entirely new level of appreciation for Lavender’s lips, which were pouty, plump, and pink, which appealed to him both aesthetically and in more tactile ways.

He murmured his appreciation when Lavender pulled his underwear down, his member flopping free to rest against his thigh.

“Mmm,” Lavender hummed, wrapping her fingers around the base of his cock, and shaking him so that his shaft slapped against her full lips, “are you going to do it for me, Harry? Are you going to fuck Padma’s brains out?”

She opened her lips and popped the very head of his cock between them, alternating between sucking and kissing in a noisy, lewd way.

“Because I really want to fuck her, Harry,” the way that Lavender’s voice vibrated against his cock felt incredible, “maybe I’ll let you watch, wouldn’t you like that?”

“Fuck,” Harry grunted, as that idea sounded very, very appealing to him. As he was becoming more familiar with Lavender’s own interests and inclinations, Harry decided to push his luck a bit further than its already spectacularly-fortunate status. “If I’m going to win this bet for you, I want something too.”

“Mhmm?” Lavender had returned to sucking his cock, starting to bob her head deep enough to wrap her lips around the half-way point of his shaft.

“The bet you made,” Harry explained, “when I win it, I want a weekend where you have to do whatever I say too.”

“Mmm!” Lavender hummed enthusiastically, meeting his gaze with a smoldering look before she momentarily popped free of his cock, “absolutely!”

She returned to her task without any further words, and Harry contentedly ran his fingers through Lavender’s long, dirty-blonde hair as she started to stroke her hand in time with the motions of her head, giving him a sloppy, enthusiastic blowjob.

“That’s great,” Harry murmured, “if you keep that up, I’ll cum before we fuck.”

“Mm-mm,” Lavender pulled off his cock, a trail of drool leaving her mouth connected to him, while her hand kept stroking, “like I said, you need to save your energy! Then again, I also really want you to cum in my mouth…”

She plunged back down, her mouth wrapping around the head of his cock, and her cheeks hollowed as she _sucked_ hard. Her hand had started to move more quickly, stroking Harry so vigorously that her motions were making soft _slapping_ noises as her strokes met her own lips. 

_I can’t argue with that,_ Harry thought mirthfully.

“Fuck yeah, Lav,” Harry groaned, “keep doing that.”

Lavender hummed contentedly once again, looking up at him with wide eyes as she pampered his cock with attention. After a few more moments of this treatment, Harry felt his orgasm surge through him, bolts of pleasure radiating out from between his legs. Lavender held his gaze the whole time, and stayed latched onto his cock until well after his climax finished, her neck bobbing as she swallowed his cum.

“Mmm!” she cheerfully rose back to her feet, “that was fun! Thanks, Harry! I’ll be in touch with you tomorrow, plan for the evening, yeah?”

“Sure,” Harry’s head still swum in his afterglow, “sounds great.”

“Oh, yeah, one more thing!” Lavender pulled the Portkey she’d used out of her purse, and pressed it into his hands, “mind recharging this?”

Harry nodded, idly casting the necessary spell, and languidly began to button up his pants so that he could also stand up.

“Cheers, love!” Lavender bounced over to him, pressing a quick kiss into his lips, “see you tomorrow!”

* * *

Harry was surprised that he didn’t feel _quite_ as nervous as he’d thought he might. He supposed that – in an unexpected way – Lavender’s sudden appearance into his sex life was proving to be a bit of a confidence-booster.

He’d met Lavender at a café, she’d given him the final rundown of the situation, had walked him to Padma’s flat and let him inside, then smacked his arse and told him “go win that bet for me, love” before leaving. Evidently, she was not intended to be a participant in this evening’s activities.

Harry swallowed once as he climbed the stairs to Padma’s bedroom, his throat tight half out of nerves, half due to the voice-changing charm that Lavender had insisted he apply to himself. “The mystery is a big part of the thrill for her,” she’d explained.

Sure enough, Padma Patil sat primly on her bed, a black blindfold over her eyes, but otherwise looking every inch the professional, put-together young woman, that Harry had known her as. She wore a crisp white blouse over a black pencil skirt, sheer stockings underneath, and her lips painted with dark magenta lipstick to cap it all off.

“Hello,” Harry spoke, unsure of what the appropriate greeting for this scenario might have been.

“Hello!” Padma’s voice was as bright and cheerful as ever, “you would be Lavender’s, hmm, acquaintance, then?”

“You could say that,” Harry agreed, thankful that the charm on his voice would help to disguise any awkwardness he might have expressed.

“I am quite sure that she has explained the basics already,” Padma elaborated, “but I would like to reiterate my expectations before we begin, as well as provide you with the opportunity to ask any questions you might have of me.”

“Right,” Harry nodded, then realized he was being ridiculous since she couldn’t exactly see his gesture, “that sounds good to me.”

“It is a particular fantasy of mine,” Padma explained, “to have a man use me to take his own pleasure, and one of the aspects I find most tantalizing is this condition of quasi-anonymity that you and I have established. With that in mind, I _do_ trust Lavender well enough to believe that she would not have selected anyone I found objectionable, so for this evening, you have my full consent to engage in intercourse with me, even if I am not certain exactly who you are.”

 _Fucking Ravenclaws,_ Harry thought, though he noticed that Padma had left out the detail where Lavender and her had agreed to a select list of candidates ahead of time.

“Furthermore, I wish to emphasize that while this is ultimately my fantasy, part of it is that your pleasure is paramount for this scenario,” Padma continued, “which means that I am rather hoping to be _taken_ , in the classic definition of the word. You also have my consent to treat me as roughly as you desire, and I have already taken precautions to ensure that the typical extent of foreplay will not be required.”

 _This is a bit more academic than I expected,_ Harry mused, _I probably should have seen that coming._

“Are there any hard limits I should know?” Harry asked, wanting to avoid leaving himself with the sense that he was being lectured.

“Thank you for asking,” Padma smiled, the expression strangely appealing to him beneath her blindfold, “as far as physical actions go, I do not wish to be struck in the face, but it is perfectly fine to do so to my breasts, legs, or buttocks.”

Harry was quickly finding that the images of these possibilities were much more interesting than Padma’s almost-clinical way of describing her preferences.

“Additionally,” she continued, “I do not wish to be choked so badly that I risk unconsciousness. A degree of ‘light choking’ would be quite nice, but if this is not an area you are experienced in, I would prefer that we avoid it in that case.”

“I’m pretty clear on the difference,” Harry provided, “sticking to ‘light’ is fine with me, as well.”

“Very good!” Padma crossed her legs delicately, which Harry suspected was a defensive gesture, “bodily fluids outside of saliva or sexual emissions do not appeal to me, and that is my final boundary on that front. If I wish for you to stop what you are doing, I will activate this charm,” Padma wiggled her fingers on one hand, and a shrill, piercing noise began to sound, before she silenced it with another gesture, “which will serve in place of a more traditional ‘safe-word’.”

“That’s clever,” Harry appreciated.

“Outside of physical actions,” Padma explained, “I have one hard limit: I do not know if you are familiar with her or not, but I do not wish to have my sister mentioned tonight, and I _absolutely_ do not want to be compared to her in any way.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Harry agreed. He certainly wasn’t planning on bringing up another woman when someone was preparing to _give_ herself to him like this.

“Other than those restrictions,” Padma concluded, “I am quite open. It will be up to you to decide what you wish to do with me, after all. I regularly take the contraceptive potion, so there is no concern of risking pregnancy, and I am free of any magical diseases.”

“Uh, yeah, me too,” Harry crossed the room, and sat beside her on the bed. He was surprised that she didn’t flinch in surprise, but supposed that these sorts of unexpected actions must have been part of the appeal to her. “One thing I was wondering…” he spoke.

“Yes?”

“The blindfold and anonymous thing,” Harry explained, “is that a ‘must’, or do you want to find out who I am after the fact?”

“Hmm,” Padma smirked (once again, Harry found an ordinary expression more interesting with her blindfolded as she was), “well, I suppose that depends on how well you do. If you impress me enough, I might well wish to arrange a repeat performance.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, “anything else?”

“Hmm,” Padma hummed, “I just thought of this, actually. Is there a name that you wish me to call you?”

“’Sir’,” Harry answered, surprising himself with how easily that answer came to him.

The pleasant little gasp that Padma gave in response to the term was the final note of approval that Harry needed to start acting.

He reached out to gently wrap his hand around Padma’s neck, and pushed her backwards firmly so that she lay on her back. Harry moved on top of her, straddling his hips over hers, and slid his hand upwards so that both of her arms were pinned above her head under one of his.

Padma gasped for breath, but there wasn’t even the slightest hint of panic in her body language. From this vantage, Harry could tell how fastidiously _perfect_ every detail of her appearance was, from her polished outfit, to the way that her hair was cut and styled so that her braid fell just so, her loose hair neatly sitting at exact shoulder-length.

He rather suspected that they were both going to enjoy it when he started to ruin this precisely-crafted perfection.

Harry reached down with his free hand to roughly grope one of Padma’s breasts over her shirt, and was pleasantly surprised at how full his grip was, even with the tantalizing glimpses he’d seen in the photos that Lavender had shown him. Padma might not have been as _stacked_ as Lavender and Susan were, but she was easily in the “busty” category.

He reluctantly released his grasp to trail his hand up to the collar of her shirt, where Harry grabbed on to the fabric tightly before yanking it to the side, causing several of Padma’s buttons to go flying across the room as he tore her shirt open. He was delighted to see the expanse of brown skin that he’d revealed, particularly where Padma’s cleavage nestled inside of a black, lacy bra.

Harry craned his head down to her neck, sucking her sensitive skin between his teeth just hard enough to leave faint marks. He shifted his position, shuffling to lean on his side next to her instead of on top of her, and shoved his hand under the cup of her bra. Padma was hot to the touch, and he felt her breaths coming in heaving gasps under his grip.

Padma made a soft noise when he rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb, and Harry squeezed her tit once more before withdrawing his hand. With her shirt torn mostly open, it had come loose from where it had been tucked into her skirt, and Harry found himself entranced by the thin strip of fabric he saw poking out from her lower garment.

Harry brushed his fingers against her belly (she was slim and yet soft at the same time, closer to Lavender’s build than Susan’s trim torso) before pushing past the boundary of her skirt, delving beneath all three layers she was wearing – stockings and panties as well – at once. His hand moved past the neatly-trimmed patch of her pubic hair, and he stroked his index finger between her legs, finding that her pussy was even hotter than the rest of her, and absolutely _drenched_.

“Stand up,” Harry commanded, pulling his hand free, as he shuffled to his feet in turn. Padma hurried to obey, practically hopping to her feet. “Turn around,” Harry specified, as he pulled his own shirt free, and started to undo his belt.

She _truly_ had a fantastic arse; despite the conservative cut of her pencil skirt, Harry could tell how her arse swelled out to a firm-looking bubble underneath, and how her hips were quite a bit wider than her waist.

“Get rid of your shirt,” Harry told her, and Padma shuffled around to free herself of her blouse, while he finished divesting himself of his pants, leaving him standing behind her in only his underwear.

Harry stepped closer to her, pressing against her back, and Padma gasped in surprise. He reached down to the waistband of her skirt, using a combination of his dexterous fingers and a little bit of magic to open the clasp and undo her zipper at once, before repeating the action on the back of her bra.

 _Merlin, what a figure,_ Harry thought appreciatively as he really got a good look at her. Padma fit the classic “hourglass” category quite well, but with a little extra on the bottom half. Her arse was perhaps the best that Harry had seen, firm, round, and bouncy all at once, her wide hips marked with appealing dimples at the base of her spine.

“Get on the bed,” Harry rasped, “hands and knees.”

While she did so, he finished undressing himself, his cock already beginning to harden due to the sight in front of him.

Harry brought both hands down firmly on her arse with a _smack_ , which prompted a pleasing “ _oh!_ ” from Padma. He took a moment to appreciate the feeling of her arse in his grip, and even over her stockings, he could tell that her skin was already warming from the single spanking he’d delivered.

He couldn’t resist the opportunity to continue, and brought one hand down to spank her again, followed by the other, delivering a rapid-fire series of blows which caused her arse to jiggle _very_ appealingly. Harry noticed that his member was getting well past the point of “halfway hard”, and decided that next, he’d introduce Padma to what Lavender called his “gift”.

Harry pushed his hips forward, pressing the shaft of his cock between Padma’s legs, gripping her arse firmly for leverage while he did so.

“What do you feel?” Harry demanded.

“ _Merlin_ ,” Padma breathed, “is that… is that _real_?”

“You tell me,” Harry spoke, and pinched her stockings between his fingers. He tore them in half, leaving a hole split over Padma’s arse, fully revealing the lacy black thong she wore underneath.

He tilted his hips up so that his cock pressed against this thong, appreciating the side of Padma’s curvy hips and juicy arse in front of him. She shuddered under his hands, and Harry decided that there wasn’t any point in waiting much longer, and ran his fingers under the strap of fabric covering her sex, before pulling it aside.

Harry briefly considered taking things slow, but figured that that wasn’t what either of them wanted.

He thrust forward roughly, hilting his entire cock in her in one motion, and was nearly overwhelmed by the tight, wet grip around his manhood.

“Holy _FUCK!_ ” Padma yelped, the first time that Harry could ever recall hearing her curse.

He didn’t allow her the time to become acclimated to his cock, instead starting to piston his hips back and forth, his hips slamming against her arse with enough force to make her jiggle under him. Harry dug his fingers firmly into Padma’s amazing bottom, gripping her tightly enough to pull her back to slam against him every time he completed one of his strokes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Padma muttered, collapsing forward so that her face lay into the mattress, rather than staying on her hands and knees.

 _Figure that means I’m doing a good job,_ Harry thought, as he just kept fucking her with as much vigour as he could manage.

Sure enough, after a few more moments of this treatment, Padma _shrieked,_ and Harry felt her pussy clench around his cock before she slumped forward, laying flat on her stomach. While normally, he would have given her a few minutes to recover, Harry was finding that this dominant sort of roleplay was surprisingly fun.

He gripped one of her legs, tossing her over to lay on her back (and ripping her stockings into tatters in the process), before reaching under her thighs to shove her further into her bed. As he arranged himself in something like a conventional missionary position, Harry used his grasp on her thighs to pull her legs straight up in the air, locking her knees against his shoulders.

Harry groaned in pleasure as he re-entered her, pumping his cock into Padma’s wet pussy without concern for the way that her legs quivered against him.

“Please!” Padma begged, “make me cum again!”

“Make you cum?” Harry teased, slowing his thrusts to an agonizingly slow pace, sawing in and out of her tauntingly.

“Please make me cum,” Padma corrected herself, “ _sir!_ ”

 _Fuck, I like hearing that,_ Harry realized, _well, since she asked so nicely…_

He brought the full weight of his body down on her, pounding his cock as deeply inside of Padma as it could reach. At the same time, Harry reached up to lay a hand over her throat again, and tightened his fingers enough to dimple her skin, choking her lightly.

Her response was instantaneous, her pussy spasming around his cock before he slipped loose of her with a wet sound, her legs twitching against his chest as he kept her pinned down.

“Fffuck,” Padma groaned as she went limp, and her thighs fell wide open while she heaved for breath. Harry appreciated the sight, and decided to show a more direct form of this enjoyment when he released her neck, instead bringing both hands to squeeze and fondle her breasts.

Harry still couldn’t quite figure out how he’d ever choose between “tits or arse” as Lavender kept insisting – neglecting one in favour of the other seemed like the height of foolishness to him. While Padma’s arse was incredible, her round, full breasts were also very pleasing to him, big enough that her tits filled his hands and then some.

He pushed his cock back inside her once again, and set a slightly more leisurely pace that time, as he rocked his hips against her with just enough power to make her breasts jiggle in his grasp.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” Padma groaned.

Harry found that he was struck by a moment of inspiration, leaning forward so that his mouth rested against Padma’s ear.

“Wanna find out who I am?” Harry teased, before he nipped at her earlobe.

“Please,” Padma moaned, “yes, please, do it.”

Harry propped himself up with one hand, and reached towards her blindfold with the other. He hesitated for a moment, but decided that after everything they’d just done together, it seemed unlikely that his true identity was going to ruin anything.

He pulled the blindfold off Padma’s face, and she met his gaze with her own deep, brown eyes, her pupils blown wide with lust.

“Harry?” she squeaked, and then Harry felt her climax around him again.

“Surprise,” he chuckled, dismissing the charm which changed his voice.

“Fuck,” Padma whispered, “I didn’t think… wow.”

She surprised _him_ next, craning her head up to crush her lips against his, where Harry was entirely happy to meet her sudden, desperate kiss with his own in return. It seemed as if Padma was as meticulous about kissing as she was about everything else in her life; she explored his mouth with her tongue, a process so sensual that Harry didn’t even mind when his cock slipped free of her once more.

Harry planted another kiss against her lips, as he remembered the scenario they were meant to be enacting.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled, “turn over.”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Padma giggled, shuffling free from underneath him to return to her hands and knees. She yelped when he pulled one of her legs back, collapsing her so that she lay against the mattress flat on her stomach.

Harry swung his leg over her hips, straddling her prone form, and planted his hands firmly on her arse. He pulled apart, spreading her open, before he carefully angled his cock against her entrance, pushing forward slowly as he filled her pussy, until his hips came to rest against her plump arse.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Harry muttered, and Padma made an inarticulate noise in response. Staying stationary while fully hilted in her, Harry squeezed her arse appreciatively, dipping one of his thumbs lower to circle around the rim of her arsehole.

Padma shuddered underneath him, before she thrust her hips back towards him, shoving his cock even deeper inside her pussy at the same time as his thumb breached past the tight ring of her arse.

“Fffuck,” she groaned into the mattress.

“What’s that?” Harry teased, as he gave her an exploratory thrust at the same time as he pushed his thumb a bit deeper into her arse, quickly discovering that she had been _extremely_ thorough when she’d undertaken the ‘precautions’ she’d mentioned before: her arsehole was evidently well-lubricated ahead of time.

Padma muttered a string of words that Harry couldn’t quite make out, but the way that he thought he caught “my arse” in the sentence captured his full attention.

“Speak up,” Harry ordered, and swatted one of her cheeks with his other hand.

“Bugger me,” Padma turned her head to speak to him, “fuck my arse.”

“Hmm,” Harry pretended to weigh his options, though he was already fully committed to this idea, “didn’t quite hear you.”

“Fuck my arse, _sir,_ please!” Padma whined, and that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

Harry removed his thumb, and slid his cock out of Padma’s pussy, lining his head up with her arsehole immediately after. It had been some time since he’d engaged in this particular activity, which added to the sense of excitement he felt.

Both of them groaned in satisfaction as Harry slowly pushed his cock into Padma’s back door, and her arse felt even tighter and hotter around him than her pussy had. Harry knew that he wasn’t going to last too much longer – they’d already been fucking for a while, and this amount of stimulation was more than he could resist – but he intended to give her his best effort anyways.

Harry lowered his upper body so that, rather than straddling over her hips, he lay on top of her, his chest pressed against her back, as his cock sank fully inside Padma’s rear. Harry cautiously began to raise and lower his hips, his thrusts producing a soft _“thop”_ sound every time he brought his hips down on her.

Padma, meanwhile, muttered a steady stream of quiet profanities, evidently just as much a fan of this type of penetration as Harry was.

It didn’t take long before Harry felt the familiar sensation of his orgasm approaching, which he announced by leaning in to whisper directly into Padma’s ear again.

“Spread yourself open for me,” Harry ordered, as he returned to a more upright position, continuing short, shallow thrusts that kept his climax at bay for now.

Padma obediently reached behind herself, clutching her own arse to pull her cheeks apart, and Harry sped up the pace of his hips until only the head of his cock remained sheathed inside of her. At the final moment, he pulled free, and held his cock at the appropriate angle as he groaned in pleasure, his orgasm overtaking him.

With Padma spreading herself open, the first rope of Harry’s cum landed inside of her arsehole, the next erupted over the curve of her tailbone, and his final two shots splashed all over her soaked pussy.

 _This counts as making a right mess out of you, I figure,_ Harry thought with satisfaction.

He flopped over on his side, then his back, taking a moment to catch his breath, basking in the afterglow. Padma scooched over towards him, resting her head against his chest.

“Wow,” she murmured, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to lose a bet.”

“That so?” Harry chuckled, looping his arm around her so that it was thrown over her back, his hand resting against her arse.

“I think I’d say that was the best shag I’ve ever had,” Padma admitted, “so, yeah. Wow.”

“Was?” Harry teased, and squeezed her arse, “I figure I can go again, once I’ve got the wind back in my sails.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Padma gasped, before giggling, “now I feel like I owe Lavender a favour.”

Harry smirked, as he pondered how _that_ might wind up involving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A familiar face (with a familiar kink) returns ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> The "terms and conditions" scene might have run a little bit long, but I figure that 1) consent is sexy, 2) Padma, as I characterize her, would _absolutely_ be the type to want to cover as many details in advance as she could, and 3) going from "rule-oriented academic" to a wanton submissive is fun!
> 
> There will be more to this fic at some point, as I already have a couple of ideas around another scene I want to write. As a teaser, the next part introduces a brand-new pairing for Harry (compared to what I've written to date across other fics), and introduces a new contender into the "tits or arse" debate: legs! 
> 
> Comments are welcome!


	3. New Year's Lay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes a new acquaintance, not to be forgot

The New Year’s Eve party was pretty great, all things considered: it wasn’t really Harry’s usual crowd for social events, but he appreciated the invitation all the same.

Otherwise, he’d have found himself without plans for the holiday.

The Weasleys had gone to France on a week-long trip ( _suspect that Hermione might come back with a ring on her finger,_ Harry thought), while Neville was at a party Hannah’s parents were throwing _(Susan’s busy with that_ ), and the other women who had recently become closer company to him – Lavender and Padma – were both busy with “something”.

Any other year, Harry might have given in to the temptation to just stay home alone, or even taken Sirius up on his invitation to vacation in Spain _(would have to book a hell of a lot of time off work to sleep off **that** hangover, though_), but this time around, he’d accepted an invite to a party well outside his typical scene on a whim.

 _Look at me,_ Harry mused to himself, _attending what’s practically a Slytherin party._

Granted, this was to be expected, considering Draco was hosting the party and all. It was hard to hold on to the old grudges from Hogwarts after Draco had more than redeemed himself during the war, then followed up his newfound commitment against Dark Magic by joining the Aurors.

He was Harry’s field partner, in fact, and there was no way that Harry could distrust the blonde when they were quite literally reliant on watching each other’s backs.

Still, the atmosphere was just a bit _different_ than Harry was used to; conversations tended to carry hints of subtle insinuations that he felt were flying over his head half of the time, and the party was overall more formal, somehow, than the raucous get-togethers Harry was used to.

One area in which the group former Slytherins seemed to be nearly identical to the graduates of other Hogwarts Houses, however, was that they had the same kind of “settling down” tendencies: Draco and Astoria Greengrass were betrothed, of course, and Blaise had been dating Theo in poorly-disguised-secret for _years_.

Hell, even Gregory Goyle ( _who actually wasn’t that bad a bloke once he got out from under his dad’s Death Eater thumb, kinda reminds me of Dudley in that way_ , Harry thought) was dating Millicent Bulstrode ( _who was also a lot more pleasant now that she wasn’t forced to disguise being a Half-Blood through being as stridently “blood purist” as possible_ ), and Harry had to admit he was kind of happy for them.

 _Their kids are going to be fucking enormous,_ Harry cracked a grin, _I pity the future Quidditch teams who have to go up against **those** inevitable Beaters. _

Harry had caught up with Justin Finch-Fletchley for a while, one of the only other non-Slytherins in attendance, but eventually Justin had to peel off to mingle with his new fiancee’s friends; Daphne Greengrass, the “Ice Queen” herself.

Apparently, the Greengrasses were quite “progressive” for an old Pureblood family, although Harry thought that the sentiment behind the whole “look, we don’t care about blood status!” gesture was just a little bit spoiled by the fact that Justin was basically _Muggle_ nobility, just as wealthy and high-status in that world as Daphne’s parents were in the magical equivalent.

 _Still, good for them and all that,_ Harry’s congratulations had been genuine, _I can’t say I’d go for a marriage contract myself, but it seems like they like each other._

When the clock had struck twelve, Harry had joined all the other attendees in raising his glass in a toast and a cheer, but he pointedly _hadn’t_ followed the gesture by turning to kiss his date, considering, well, he didn’t have a date.

It wasn’t like Harry would complain about his single status, especially considering he’d unexpectedly developed a rather active sex life all of a sudden, but there were definitely times when the reminders got a little bit pointed for his taste.

He’d wandered out to one of Draco’s balconies ( _Draco’s flat is less an “apartment” and closer to “a small mansion”,_ Harry chuckled) to chase away some of his thoughts with a cigarette and a healthy portion of the firewhisky in his flask.

 _Absolutely not “sulking” or “brooding”,_ Harry thought, practically hearing his godfather’s teasing in his mind.

Harry definitely understood that nothing going on with any of Lavender, Susan, or Padma was “a relationship”, which he was fine with, but it would have been nice to at have _someone_ on his arm for this event.

Halfway through his second cigarette, he heard the door open behind him, and turned his head to notice a fairly unexpected person joining him: Tracey Davis, yet another former Slytherin.

He really only knew of her by reputation; at Hogwarts, she’d been basically attached to Daphne Greengrass at all times, and according to Draco, Tracey was fiercely protective of her best friend. Privately, Harry wondered if it was some kind of old-fashioned “allegiance” thing, considering that Davis was publicly known to be a “half-blood”, but whatever the details, it had allowed the pair of women to dodge most of the worst habits of Slytherin during their time at Hogwarts.

 _Not all of them, though,_ Harry wondered. In the extremely brief conversations he’d had with the brunette woman that night, she’d been pretty standoffish; dry and sarcastic not in the wry and self-aware way that Draco was, but in a way that kind of came off as bitter.

Regardless of her life in secondary school, it seemed that Tracey Davis worked at the Ministry of Magic now (in the Department of Mysteries at that), but he’d somehow missed the chance to encounter her in any more professional context.

“Potter,” she greeted him just as enthusiastically as he’d kind of expected, “spare a cigarette, would you?”

“Sure, yeah,” Harry fished the pack out of his dinner jacket, then passed it to her.

They stood beside each other in awkward silence for a few moments, as Tracey was apparently content to smoke and stare into the night sky.

“So, uh, pretty good party?” Harry attempted to broach a conversation.

“It’s passable,” Tracey shrugged, “it’s a bit obnoxious though, isn’t it?”

“Er,” Harry wasn’t sure what she was getting at, “how so?”

“All the lovey-dovey couples and all,” Tracey hummed, “can’t imagine why someone would do that to themselves, really.”

“I assume they love each other, yeah?” Harry shrugged.

“Pfft,” Tracey dismissed that idea, “that’s why most of the couples inside just so happen to be mutually-beneficial political pairings, I’m sure.”

Harry made a noncommittal noise in response; he wasn’t much for politics.

“You should know a thing or two about that, I imagine,” she continued, “being Magical Britain’s most eligible bachelor, and all, I’m sure you’ve had no shortage of women offering to hand their lives over to you.”

“Not so much, actually,” Harry grumbled, “what’re you getting at, Davis?”

She observed him for a long moment, and Harry had to fight the urge to squirm under her inspection.

“Frankly,” Tracey answered after a while, “I thought I’d find a kindred spirit, perhaps. Since you’re so notoriously single, I figured you’d also see this whole ‘oh, let me parade around my newest investment, because we’re so in woooove’,” she pronounced ‘love’ with a ‘w’, “for the obnoxious bullshite that it is.”

“Hmph,” Harry grunted, “I’m just not sure if I agree. Sure, I don’t reckon I’d be willing to marry anyone that came along with a contract to sign, but who am I to say? Seems to have worked pretty well for Draco and Astoria.”

“Sure, they’re the shining example,” Tracey rolled her eyes, “but I’d figured Daphne would be smarter than to resign herself to a lifetime of dinner parties, keeping up appearances, and mediocre sex.”

 _Is she jealous, envious, or resentful?_ Harry wondered. He was no stranger to the whole “let me vent my frustrations to you, nearby acquaintance” thing himself, but Tracey seemed to be getting into some awfully personal shite that he didn’t really want to reflect on.

“Hey,” Harry protested instead, “Justin’s a friend of mine, and all. I’m sure he’s a great boyfriend, not that I’ve asked about their sex life.”

“I’ll admit,” Tracey drawled, “Daphne’s been awful coy about that side of it. Still, he’s a bloke, the odds aren’t great.”

Harry took another drag of his cigarette, utterly bewildered at the turn this conversation had taken – _not that it made much sense from the get-go._

“I swear,” Tracey continued, “I’m one more mediocre shag away from committing exclusively for women. Your lot hasn’t impressed me so far. Fuck’s sake, maybe I’ll get married to Blaise, find some girl for Theo to marry, and the lot of us can just keep up appearances in our own way.”

Harry shrugged, unsure how to reply to this.

“This is where you’re supposed to leap to the defense of your gender, isn’t it?” Tracey taunted.

“Can’t blame you?” Harry chuckled, “I’d rather shag a woman than a bloke too, no offense to Blaise and Theo.”

Tracey laughed, and it was honestly an attractive one, if one that sounded like it could tip over into “cruel” at times.

“Honestly, before I make any more of a fool of myself,” she spoke, “are you not interested, or are you actually that fucking thick?”

“Er,” Harry screwed up his face in thought, trying to put the pieces together, “pardon?”

“Just that thick, then,” Tracey sighed, “I should’ve expected that. Let me put it out there, then; you’re single, I’m single, and I’m right fucking wound up tonight. As you should realize from me mentioning Blaise and Theo, I’m good at keeping secrets. So,” she gestured at herself, “you want to help me blow off some steam, or no?”

_Oh._

Harry took a better look at her, now that he’d figured out what was going on. Tracey was definitely an attractive woman: tall, with wavy dark-brunette hair, and ambiguously “Mediterranean” features. Back at Hogwarts, it had been her friend Daphne who’d been famed as the prettiest witch in Slytherin, but her name had certainly come up in the Gryffindor dorm room – _mostly from Seamus whining that she’d been “mean” to him, granted._

 _Why not?_ Harry mused. While he wasn’t exactly feeling sparks with Tracey, he figured that he might actually enjoy meeting the challenge she’d issued.

“Sure,” Harry answered nonchalantly, “if that’s what you’re getting at, I’d be game.”

“Fucking brilliant,” Tracey stubbed out her cigarette, “I’m just about done with this party, what’s your Floo address?”

He told her.

“Right,” she turned around, heading back inside, “be there in an hour, sharp.”

Harry couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle to himself.

Lately, his love life (such as it was) had suddenly seemed to become so much _easier_ than he’d ever imagined.

* * *

Sure enough, Tracey had already left by the time Harry went back to the party, and he lingered a little while longer before leaving himself.

Back at his flat, he wondered if he should change his outfit, or do something to set the mood, but eventually decided that there’d be no point in pulling out all the stops for someone who might not even show, and if she did, probably wouldn’t care about any effort he’d put in.

 _Sure sounds like she’s only interested in sex,_ Harry thought, _suits me fine, I suppose._

He was honestly a bit surprised, but at around half past one in the morning, his Floo flared to life. Sure enough, Tracey walked through, and he noticed that _she_ had changed her outfit – or at least, put a trench-coat on.

“Hey,” Harry wasn’t sure what the proper greeting for this kind of scenario was.

“Let’s not waste time, Potter,” Tracey smirked, and casually shucked her coat off, revealing the lingerie she wore beneath, “take me to your bedroom.”

_Damn._

There was something to be said for her blunt forwardness, to say nothing of how she looked in her fancy underwear. She wore thigh-high stockings, a black, lacy pair of panties, and a bra that seemed to just barely qualify as one.

Harry couldn’t help but, for the briefest moment, assess her body: Tracey wasn’t the bustiest woman ( _though my reference point might have jumped up a bit after Sue and Lavender,_ he thought), but her breasts were round and perky; she was on the athletic side of “slim”, with lines of muscle and her top two abs visible; and her legs were absolutely **incredible.**

Her thighs were thick and muscular without becoming bulky, somehow managing to look sleek and elegant while also _powerful._ They touched in the middle of her legs, only to divide into a tiny, very intriguing gap directly below her groin.

“Er, right,” Harry remembered to speak, “down this way.”

He closed the door behind them after leading her into his bedroom, removing his own jacket and hanging it on the back of his door.

“So, uh,” Harry muttered, “anything particular I should know? Any big ‘yes’ or ‘no’ preferences to be aware of?”

“Honestly,” Tracey hummed, as she sat on his bed, “I just want to get _fucked_. Of the men I’ve been with before, all I’ve experienced so far is perhaps half a minute of eager thrusts, so you don’t exactly have a low bar to clear, Potter.”

“Works for me,” he shrugged.

He closed the distance to her, and leaned down to kiss her, only for her to grasp his chin, tilting his head away.

“I’m not here for romance,” Tracey spoke imperiously, “or any of that soft, sensitive nonsense. If I wanted someone to show off what their hands and mouth could do, I’d just shag a woman,” she reminded him, “I’m strictly here to see what you can do with _this_.”

For emphasis, she groped the base of his cock over his trousers.

“Fuck,” Tracey’s eyes widened a margin, as her hand trailed lower, and lower, finally reaching the end of his manhood, “did you take a potion of some kind?”

“No?” Harry was perplexed, but started unbuttoning his shirt all the same. _She’s right fit,_ he rationalized, _might as well have some fun even if I’m utterly baffled._

“Goddamn, Potter,” she huffed under his breath, “you’re already measuring up quite well, in at least one regard. Get those trousers off.”

He hurried to obey, dropping his pants and kicking them aside with no further consideration.

Tracey took the initiative next, peeling his underwear down, and when his cock flopped out, he was already half-hard.

“Merlin,” Tracey breathed, then reached forward to grab his member, “okay, I take back what I said earlier; you’ve managed to impress me on at least one level.”

She stroked him quickly, her hand twisting as she moved back and forth; her actions were technically-proficient, but felt almost clinical, in a way.

 _Still, feels pretty good,_ Harry couldn’t complain too much, as he quickly started to approach full hardness.

“Lie down,” Tracey murmured, and Harry did so after pulling his underwear all the way off, “get me ready, too. I don’t need much, in terms of foreplay, but I’m not going to try handling this before I’m prepared.”

Harry smirked, his pride rising a notch.

He trailed his hand down her firm abdomen, appreciating the strength he felt in her core, before dipping his fingers past the waistband of Tracey’s underwear. As she had claimed, it seemed she was already well on her way to being aroused; when he traced the tip of his index finger over her pussy, she was already wet.

“Mmmh,” she groaned, “you’re not bad with your hands, I’ll give you that.”

“You’re pretty alright too,” Harry teased back, as he pushed his finger slightly inside of her.

 _Fuck,_ he could already tell, _she’s **incredibly**_ _tight._

Were the context a bit different, he might have even worried that she wasn’t interested in what they were doing, her entrance was so resistant to the intrusion of his digit, but the slick heat he felt ( _to say nothing of her insistence that this was what she wanted_ ) was proof enough that she was certainly enjoying his company so far. 

“Alright,” Tracey breathed, “I should be good. Get that cock inside of me, Potter.”

“As you wish,” Harry joked, pulling his hand free as he shuffled onto his knees overtop of her.

Tracey pulled her panties off with a smooth gesture, then spread her legs in front of him. She was shaved entirely bare, and Harry swore that he could almost feel the heat coming off of her as he started to lean forward.

“Sheath charm?” Harry asked, realizing that he should be responsible.

“Ugh,” Tracey groaned, “it’s fine, just don’t finish inside of me, if you can manage that. I’ll take a morning-after potion.”

“Hmm,” Harry wasn’t quite sure if that sounded like a good idea.

“Besides,” Tracey taunted, “sheath charms can make _any_ bloke last as long as they want. I want you to prove what **you** can do.”

She reached between them to grasp his member, and pulled him forwards, guiding his cock towards her pussy.

 _Fuck it,_ Harry decided, _not like wizards and witches have to worry about disease or anything._

Tracey certainly didn’t seem like the type to try and ensnare him with a child, from what she’d complained about earlier, and if it came down to it, he’d insist that he accompany her to pick up the morning-after potion.

He groaned as he started to push into her – and “push” was quite literal, with how tight she was – slowly working inch after inch of his cock inside her pussy.

“Already getting close, are you?” Tracey smirked, “and here I was, hoping that you actually knew how to use that monster between your legs.”

Harry ignored the jibe, continuing to slowly enter her until, _finally_ , his cock was fully hilted inside of her. He almost understood her complaints; with how tight she was, Harry imagined that most blokes would struggle to last long with her.

 _Luckily,_ Harry smirked with some of his recently-found confidence, _I’m not “most blokes”._

He withdrew from her just as slowly, before thrusting forward with _intent_ , shoving half of his cock back inside her in an instant.

“ _Ahh,_ ” Tracey gasped, “fuck!”

“Too much?” Harry asked.

“Don’t fucking stop,” Tracey insisted, “ _fuck_ me already!”

“If you insist…” Harry took the chance to tease her, this time.

He pushed his hips forward, thrusting the rest of his manhood into her tightness.

“Goddamn,” Tracey huffed, “not half-bad.”

Instead of replying with words, Harry started to pump his hips – more slowly than he might have usually preferred, but he didn’t want to tear her in half – and Tracey continued to alternate between gasps and taunting him to go faster.

“Mmm,” Harry hummed, as he hilted himself again, then paused, “you talk a lot, hey?”

“You’re the one talking instead of fucking,” Tracey replied.

“What’s your safe word?” Harry asked.

“Huh?”

“Y’know,” he explained, his hips still stationary, “something to tell me to stop what I’m doing.”

“Oh, never needed one,” she smirked up at him, “I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, you can fuck me harder than that.”

Instead, Harry reached up to clamp his hand over her mouth. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, but she didn’t struggle or resist his motion.

“If you want me to stop,” Harry insisted, “say, uh, ‘pineapple’, or tap me on the shoulder three times. Alright?”

Tracey wriggled her hips underneath him, trying to get some more stimulation.

“Alright?” Harry tightened his grip over her mouth a little, and she nodded eagerly.

Without moving his hand, Harry crawled forward on his knees, pushing Tracey’s legs back with his own. As soon as he was in the angle that he wanted, he pulled out of her, then drove all his weight forward, plunging inside of her more deeply than he had yet.

“ _MMPH_ ,” Tracey made a noise under his hand, and her own hands wrapped around the back of his neck, but she certainly didn’t use the gesture he’d just explained.

Finding that the experience was much more enjoyable without her constant barbs, Harry started to actually _fuck_ her as she’d demanded. His hips slammed into hers, and with every thrust, his cock penetrated her just a bit deeper.

He knew that some women found this kind of depth painful or unpleasant, while others found it _extremely_ enjoyable. From what Harry could tell, it seemed as if Tracey fell into the second category _hard._

Harry’s hips kept descending, the steady _thap, thap, thap_ of skin-on-skin echoing through his bedroom. Before long, Tracey’s hands flew to his own (still locked over her mouth), and he felt her teeth graze his palm.

 _Still not using the safe-word,_ he reminded himself.

He removed his hand from her mouth, and immediately, she started to make her enthusiasm known.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Tracey cried, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” she repeated.

Harry increased the force of his thrusts, and when he buried himself as deeply as was possible for him, Tracey made a high, whining sound, her legs twitching underneath him.

“Holy fuck,” she muttered, “you… you just… _fuck_.”

“Yeah,” Harry smirked, “I hope that passes your test.”

Tracey made a half-manic giggling sound as she suddenly wrapped her legs around him, then _twisted_ her hips, turning the pair onto their sides, then tilted him even further onto his back.

“Fuck,” she spoke, her eyes almost glazed over with lust, “you cheated. I don’t know how, but now I’m gonna see what you can do, now that I’m in control.”

 _Are you?_ Harry wondered to himself.

He reached around her back, and unclasped Tracey’s bra. When the garment fell free, she tossed it aside contemptuously, and Harry realized that his earlier assessment was quite accurate; she had fantastic tits (even if they weren’t the biggest), comfortably large enough to fill his palm, with small, dark nipples.

Harry craned his head up to take one of her nipples into his mouth, and Tracey’s attempts at seizing control immediately fell apart, as she shuddered overtop of him.

Without giving her a chance to rest, he started pumping his hips upwards, the force of his motions almost enough to lift her off the bed.

“Oh fuck,” Tracey whined, “oh god, how are you- oh _fffuck_!”

She had relaxed slightly around him ( _though still **amazingly** tight_) after her first orgasm, allowing Harry to hammer his hips against her as hard as he could, plunging into her depths freely without concern.

Apparently, as it turned out, Tracey was not only able to orgasm through penetration, but to have _multiple_ orgasms.

“ _GOD!_ ” she cried out, grabbing Harry by the hair and pulling his head back.

Her lips descended against his without warning, and the kisses they exchanged could only generously be described as “making out” or “snogging”; it would have been more accurate to say that her tongue lolled out of her mouth and into his, and Harry sucked on it while he continued to buck up into her.

At some point, she began thrusting her hips back down to meet his upwards motions, and their sex started to become almost _violent,_ loud clapping sounds replacing the earlier noises of their flesh meeting each other.

Harry’s hands came down on Tracey’s arse – harder than was strictly necessary – and his cock slipped out of her when she flinched upwards, spasming and shaking in her _third_ orgasm of the night.

 _Heh,_ Harry thought, _guess I win that wager._

“More,” Tracey begged, and she thrust her hips forwards.

Harry’s cock slid into that tiny space at the top of her thighs unintentionally, the upper side of his shaft rubbing against Tracey’s wet cunt as she kept humping against him.

“Put your cock in me,” she whined, “fuck me more.”

He was starting to get close, and her urgent motions were rapidly propelling him to his own orgasm.

“I can’t,” Harry choked, “cum inside you, right?”

“Fuck it,” Tracey mewed, “put your cock in me, Haa _aarry_!”

He felt her get even wetter along his cock, and this stimulus, when paired with the desperate, impromptu thigh-job that she’d been giving him, was enough to take him over the edge.

“Fuck!” Harry cried out, as he shot his cum in thick ropes over Tracey’s arse, between her legs, and over the outside of her pussy.

The two took a moment to catch a breath, then she rolled off of him.

“Heh,” she chuckled.

“Mm?” Harry wondered what she’d be amused by, considering that she’d just _convincingly_ lost the bet she’d made against him.

“You’re the first bloke that didn’t cum as soon as you put it in my pussy,” Tracey chuckled, “but a few seconds between my thighs, and you came undone.”

“You’ve got pretty incredible legs,” Harry was unbothered, “besides, it sure seemed that you were satisfied.”

“Mmm,” Tracey reviewed, “I suppose so. You might, possibly, have convinced me to give men another shot.”

“That so?”

“Well, I certainly hope to shag you again,” Tracey smirked, but the expression looked less ‘confident’ and more ‘fuck-drunk’, “that’s for sure.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “sounds fantastic. Give me a few minutes, though.”

“What?” she seemed baffled.

“I need a minute,” Harry explained, “to catch my breath. Maybe have a smoke, we can have a drink? Then we can go back to bed.”

“Wait, what?” Tracey, apparently, wasn’t understanding something.

“Uh,” Harry felt this was pretty basic, “I want a break before we shag again.”

“No, I mean, yes!” Tracey stammered, for once losing her cool persona, “I just… you can go more than once!?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry shrugged, “two or three times, easy.”

“Fuck…” Tracey muttered, trailing off in thought.

 _Yeah,_ Harry thought, _that was the idea, right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S ALIVE!
> 
> It took me a while to get this chapter out, but hey, it's still before the end of February!
> 
> My self-imposed challenge for this chapter was to write a scene between characters who honestly didn't have much chemistry... up until they got into bed ;^P
> 
> I've been hitting a little bit of a stumbling block lately where a lot of my sex scene ideas seem to wind up filtering into other fics, rather than this one, so I welcome suggestions/requests/etc. for things to include in the future!
> 
> In the meantime, I've got an idea for the next chapter - Tracey and Susan both compete with each other to become Harry's "work wife" at the Ministry - but I'm not sure when that might spin itself together into something I can post!
> 
> All comments are welcome!


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